


Gun In Your Holster (Ready To Go)

by charleybradburies



Category: Gossip Girl, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Animal Metaphors, Community: 1_million_words, Community: femslash100, Community: femslashagenda, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Cunnilingus, Drabble, F/F, Femslash, Food Metaphors, McCall Pack, Oral Sex, POV Lydia Martin, Power Dynamics, Power Imbalance, Power Play, Rough Sex, Triple Drabble, Werewolves, Wolf Pack, Women In Power
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 20:22:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5599549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charleybradburies/pseuds/charleybradburies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>femslash100 drabble tag #6 (#111): Blair/Lydia: Alpha</p><p>Title from Kat Graham's "Heartkiller."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gun In Your Holster (Ready To Go)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [notherhappyending](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notherhappyending/gifts).



“Harder!” Blair exclaims, pushing Lydia in a way that Lydia imagines she thinks will jam Lydia’s mouth farther into her, but for logistical reasons that fails to work. Blair slaps her cheek - not hard, per se, about as hard as if someone was trying to wake someone up by tapping their face a few times. 

“Make me come, incompetent banshee bitch!”

_Oh, that’s it._

Lydia lurches back from inside Blair’s legs, hands thick and tight around the other woman’s thighs and roughly pushing her the few feet back to the wall before either of them totally know what’s happening; Lydia can feel her long nails scraping some of the skin of Blair’s inner thighs. 

_Her own fault._

With Blair out of her high heels and Lydia still in hers, Lydia’s just tall enough to lean forward and down into the wall with a bit of leverage. Blair’s visibly shaken, but mad enough that she probably assumes Lydia can’t actually tell.

_Joke’s on her._

Lydia pushes her hand immediately above Blair’s vulva, palm taut against her clit.

“Oh, _Princess,_ you’re not even gonna be _allowed_ to come until you learn that I am no one’s _bitch,_ ” she sneers. Blair’s jaw locks. Lydia decides to lower her voice.

“And don’t _try_ to be clever. Remember, _I’m_ the screamer, and _you’re_ the dog. And regardless of whatever the fuck you were before, you’re here now, and you’re with _my_ pack. And things are gonna be a little _different._ ”

Lydia pushes Blair's shoulder, jolting her down to the floor. She glares up with angry eyes, but she's still got lust in them, so Lydia follows through, pulling her own, wet, panties to the side and giving an expectant look.

Besides, someone _did_ have to be sure she learned the Beacon Hills food chain, right?


End file.
